Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1887-09-01

| terry of weapon. ''Inkosikaasi is sharp
enough" he shouled; ''the blow that clip
ped the 'buffalo-heifer's' horn would have
split man from the crown to the chin
| Few could have struck it but /; none could
have struck it and not taken off the Shout
dee,too. Look, thou little heifer! Am l a
good man to laugh at, thinkest thou? For
space hast thou stood within hairs
breadth of death Laugh not again, lest
the hair s-breadth be wanting. l have
| spoken"
"What meanest thou by such mad
tricks?'' I asked of Umslopogaas, indig-
nantly. '.Surely thou art mad. Twenty
| times didst thou go near to Staying the
| man,
''And yet, Macumazahn, I slew not
Thrice as Inkosikaasi flew the spirit en-
tered into me to end him, and sending her
crashing through his skull; but [ did not
Nay, it was but jest; but tell the 'heifer'
that it is not well to mock at such as /.
| Now go to make a shield, for / smell
| blood, Macumazahn-of truth I smell
| blood. Before the battle hast thou not
seen the vultures grow of sudden in the
sky? They smell the blood, Macumazahn,
and my scent is more keen than theirs.
There is dry ox-hide down yonder; 1 go
to make shield"
''That is an uncomfortable sort of retain
er of yours" said Mr.. Mackenzie, who had
witnessed the extraordinary scene. tHe
| has frightened Alphonse out of his wits;
| lookr' and he pointed to the Frenchman,
who, with scared white face and trem-
bling limbs, was making his way into the
house. 81 don't think that he will ever
| laugh at 'le monsieur 1loir again"
eyes," answered 1, cit is i'll jesting with
such as he. When he is reused he is like
a fiend, and yet he has kind heart in his
own fierce way. / remember years ago
seeing him nurse sick child for a week
He is a strange character, but true as steel,
and strong stick to rest on in danger
''He says he smells blood" said Mr.
Mackenzie. II only trust he is not right
am getting very fearful about my little
girl. She must have gone far. or she
would be home by now. 1t is half-past
three o'clock"
/ pointed out that she had taken food
with her, and very likely would not in the
ordinary course Of events return till night
fall but myself felt very anxious, and
fear that my anxiety betrayed itself.
I Shortly after this, the people whom Mr..
Mackenzie had sent out to search for Flos-
sic returned, stating that they had followed
the spOor of the donkey for a couple of
miles, and had then lost it on some stony
ground, nor could they discover it again.
They had, however, secured the country
far and wide, but without success.
After this, the afternoon wore drearily
on, and toward evening, there still being
no signs Of Flossie, our anxiety grew very
keen. AS for the poor mother, she was
quite FRUSTRATED by her fears, and no won.
der; but the father kept his head wonder
fully well. Everything that could be done
was done: people were sent out in all di
rections, shots were fired, and a cont;nu-
Gus outlook kept from the great tree; but
without avail.
And then ct last it grew dark, and still
no sign of haired little FlOssie
At eight O'Clock we had supper. 1t was
but a sOrrowful meal, and Mrs Mackenzie
did not appear at it. We three were very
silent, for, in addition to our natural
anxiety as to the fate Of the child, we were
weighed down by the sense that we had
brought this trouble on the head Of ouI
kind host. When supper was nearly at an
end. [ made an excuse to leave the table.
wanted to get outside and think the stu
alton over. went on the veranda, and,
having lit my pipe, sat down on seat
about dozen feet from the right-hand end
of the structure, which was, as the reader
may remember, exactly opposite one of the
narrow doors of the protecting wall that
inclosed the house and flower garden.
had been sitting there perhaps six or seven
minutes when | thought [ heard the door
move. [ looked in that direction and
listened, but being unable to make out
anything, concluded that I must have been
mistaken. TWAS a darkish night, the moon
not having yet risen.
Another minute passed, when suddenly
something round fell with a soft but heavy
thud upon the stone floor of the veranda,
and came bounding and rolling along
passed me. For moment did not rise.
but sat wondering what it could be. Final
ly, concluded it must have been an ami
NAL Just then, however, another idea
struck me, and I got up quick enough.
The thing lay quite still few feet beyond
me. [ put down my hand toward it, and
it did not move; clearly it was not an ami
NAL. My hand touched it. 1t was soft
and warm and heavy Hurriedly [ lifted
it and held it up against the faint starlight.
1t aUds q 4lelUIy seUered human head!
am an old hand and not easily upset;
DuG own that that CHASTITY sight made me
feel sick. How had the thing come there?
Whose was it? put it down and ran to
the little doorway. | could see nothing,
hear nobody. was about to go out into
the darkness beyond, but remembering
that to do SO was to expose myself to the
risk of being stabbed, 1 drew back, shut
the door, and bolted it. Then [ returned
to the veranda. and in as careless a voice
as [ could command, called Curtis [ fear,
however, that my tones must have betrayed
me, for not only Sir Henry, but also Good
and Mackenzie rose from the table and
came hurrying out.
''What is it," said the clergyman, anX-
iously.
Then [ had to tell him.
Mr.. Mackenzie turned pale as death uE
der his red skin. We were standing oppo-
site the hall door, and there was a light in
it SO that [ could see. He snatched the
head up by the hair and held it in the light.
cit is the head of one of the men who &C
companied Flossie,' he said, with gasp.
THANK God it is not hers!''
We all stood and stared at each other
70 Il RI